


Harbingers of war

by Anae



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Levi-centric (Shingeki no Kyojin), Spoilers up to chapter 102
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 05:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anae/pseuds/Anae
Summary: “You think you’ll make a difference?” The words cut through the air like a knife but despite their cruelty, there’s no malice in their tone.Levi almost snorts at that. “You do, don’t you?”In which Levi and Hanji disagree, but it's not like they'll stop him.





	Harbingers of war

**Author's Note:**

> Apart from the occasional whimpers, SnK hasn't pulled my heartstrings in years. Until I saw Levi in the new battle gear, still wearing wings of freedom on his back while no-one else did.  
> If it's not symbolism, I don't know what is.
> 
> So, I found myself with too many feelings to contain and this was born. Hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing!

 

_History is written by the winners._

_\- Napoleon Bonaparte_

 

There are quiet footsteps echoing from the corridor, silent enough not to be heard if not for years of horror on the battlefield. They stop next to the closed door which is unceremoniously pushed open – apart from the soft click, the door doesn’t give out any protests despite its old age, much thanks to hinges that are well lubricated and taken care of. One might think loud door would provide more security, but after a lifetime of light sleep – forced upon circumstances, restless sleep and grief – it’s more of an annoyance than protection, really. Besides, locks do exist. The only reason the door’s not locked right now is that he just arrived and is leaving soon.

Room’s resident doesn’t bother turning or acknowledging the newcomer, even when they lean to the doorframe and it grumbles with reticent creak. He knows who’s standing there even before they speak – it’s hard not to learn to recognize footsteps, and he’s known them longer than anyone alive. Even if he hadn’t, they’re the only one who dares to enter his room without knocking first. ”I heard you’re planning to go with the kids.”

He doesn’t bother to answer since they already know – not that it was a secret – and instead focuses on piling the final papers. He didn’t have time to go through them, after all, and the job is left for someone else. Maybe it should bother him, but truthfully, he cannot bring himself to care about it. They have bigger problems to worry about.

There’s an exaggerated sigh from the doorway. “I really don’t think it’s a good idea, Levi.”

Now that the stack is neatly piled on the desk, he lifts his gaze from the papers, looking straight at Hanji.

They cross their arms, dark eyes staring back to grey, unfazed. Most of their soldiers are still wary, even scared of Levi, but they’re not. Never been, not even on his early days. This is not the first time they’ve disagreed, and they hope it’s not the last either. “If Eren’s right about the enemy’s plan and his plan fails, the war will come here. We’ll need people. Skilled ones.”

Levi pushes himself up, snorting. “If Eren’s right and they fail, our best troops are dead. No one will be able to stop their titans then. It’s all or nothing.”

The plan to cross the sea and attack the enemy on their grounds, to fight against the titans – those with consciousness and control, like Eren – it requires resilience and skill. Not to mention only a handful of soldiers can be sent over in the first place and the chosen ones need to be capable enough to fight against those titans, capable of laying blows on them, perhaps even surviving.

“You think you’ll make a difference?” The words cut through the air like a knife but despite their cruelty, there’s no malice in their tone.

Levi almost snorts at that. Men have been sacrificed more than once so he could make a difference, some ending in successes, some in failures. Hanji knows the results as well as he does. Despite all this, he’s still though as their strongest, their best asset – despite all this, because of all this, the Commander wants him to stay behind to protect people. Too bad he’s never been good at that – he’s soldier, blade honed to kill, not a protector. Besides, he had a bone to pick with the ape titan – smoldering hate and burn for vengeance haven’t left him since their last encounter. And even if they had – he’s not the type to break promises. “You do, don’t you?” he shoots back at them while moving from behind the desk, hand absentmindedly running over the smooth wood.

Hanji lets out a sigh, ruffling their unruly, good-knows-when-washed hair. ”Technically, I could just order you.” They’re the Commander now, have been for years, but it’s an empty threat and they both know it. What catches Levi off-guard however, is them opening their hand to give him… No.

It’s first time in years that Levi visibly recoils – he takes a step back, eyes whipping from the blue-green pendant to Hanji’s eye.

“He would’ve wanted you to have this”, is what they say. They don’t mean the title.

It forces a laugh out of Levi. It’s bitter, and he doesn’t bother nor want to hide it. “We both know he didn’t.”

 

_“What?”_

_The words come out more accusatory than he means, something he only realizes when Hanji nearly winces. To his defense, they’re outside, it’s raining, and everyone else has already left. Moreover, he didn’t expect to be asked to stay behind with vague reasons by their newly appointed Commander._

_Outside the meetings, they’ve barely talked to each other – the wounds are still too fresh, and the loss of their friends, loss of everyone they’ve loved or known is still an open, gaping wound. It doesn’t help that they disagree with Levi’s choice of who to save – Hanji hasn’t rebuked him of it, since putting Levi in charge of the injection was Erwin’s choice – but it’s clear something is broken between them._

_They take his hand without a word and he lets them, grimacing while they do, and feels light weight on his palm. When Hanji pulls their hand away, Levi swallows. There’s a badge on his hand. Badge with their emblem, badge with wings of freedom._

_Hanji doesn’t look at him when they speak, but that’s fine, he’s busy collecting himself. “You know Erwin didn’t exactly have any family. You were the closest to him, so…”_

_Their words trail off._

_“Thank you.” He closes his hand around the cleaned emblem. He’s grateful – for the emblem, for the loaded meaning giving it to him carries, for Hanji being considerate to do this when they’re alone._

_Based on Haji’s gaze, he’s probably not as closed book about this as he’s used to being. But for now, it’s fine – there’s no one else to see the crack, and they’ve seen him at his worst. Before Levi can leave, they pass him by, squeezing his shoulder. For a moment, they look like they want to hug him – but that ship has sailed, their friendship has shifted, bond damaged by heavy losses and controversies. They’ll still support one another – they have no one else left, the kids are and will be their proteges at most – but nothing will be the same as before._

_He lifts his gaze towards the sky, eyes falling shut as the rain pours down upon him. Gather the broken pieces, build them up again. Hide the cracks if you can’t fix them. Don’t regret the choices you’ve made. Survive. Live._

_But as for now, for this short moment, just breathe._

Erwin’s emblem, along with two older ones, the reason he came to his room for one last time, burns inside his pocket.

“Levi.”

Haji’s voice is calm and compassionate, and beneath, there lies an understanding. She lost them too, lost something too valuable to name. The difference is that Levi’s lost too much for the titans for three times opposed to their one. It doesn’t make their suffering any less valid, but he’s done with compassion from others. He’s done with helping hands, even if they mean well.

“Don’t”, he warns, and thankfully, they leave it at that. Once upon a time they might have not, but those days are long past. It’s ironical to think how they thought things couldn’t get any worse for the Corps after the fall of Maria. Oh how naïve they were.

The new combat gear doesn’t make a sound as Levi walks to the door, meaning to step out and leave Hanji there, but extended hand stops him. He looks up to glare at them, snort at the overdue sentimentality if that’s what this is, but instead offered something he never expected to see again.

“Want to wear wings of freedom on your back for one last time?”

Dark green cape with winged emblem dangles on their outstretched hand. When they changed their uniforms to more suitable ones for the new combat gear, capes were removed along with the jackets. Levi doesn’t know where Hanji dug that one up – it’s washed, but the edges are ragged, so clearly it’s an old one, one that’s seen the gruesome battles – and it brings back memories.

 

_“Humanity’s Strongest?”_

_Erwin is sitting behind the table, blue eyes alight fight humor on Levi’s clear distaste on the nickname. “Yes, that’s what they call you now.”_

_Levi snorts, eyeing the Commander from across the room as he pushes himself away from the wall he’d been leaning to. “That’s fucking ridiculous.” Especially so that it was mere month ago that he was called all sorts of names by other soldiers in every brigade, not just within Military Police. What makes it all sorts of absurd, in Erwin’s opinion laughable even, is the contrast between them – hoodlum, whore, mad dog, insults screamed and whispered by fearful soldiers and Humanity’s Strongest by the delusional dreams of citizens._

_Erwin leans on the table, fingers crossed, elbows resting against the wood as his eyes meet Levi’s. “Don’t be so quick to judge, Levi.” If Levi were any less of a man, he’d shrink now that Erwin’s full attention is on him – piercing blue eyes and ghost of a victorious smile tell him exactly what kind of person the future Commander of the Survey Corps is. “People need symbols. Especially at hard times like this.”_

_Levi snorts again as he crosses the room, aware that’s he’s one of the few who’re allowed to this side of Erwin as well._

 

“It might make you a target, though.”

Haji’s words pull Levi fully back to the present. The cape is a symbol, something that’s easily recognizable. Whether is means enough for the kids to provide any comfort is debatable, but the traitors and titans associate it with Survey Corps, with those who stop at nothing to fight for freedom. For them, it’s a symbol that stirs up fear.

Moreover, there’s no way the Beast Titan hasn’t ran its dirty mouth about him, making it likely that he’s one of the first ones they want to take down. Wearing the cape will make him a better recognizable target, decreasing the chances of his survival but in turn, it may boost the kids’ chances and give them more time. It’s risk, but it’s a risk he’s willing to take.

Besides, his blackened wings are made from more than one set. Too many have died on his watch, too many have been sacrificed for his missions – so it’s only justified he wears their wings for everyone to see, too.

As Levi wordlessly takes the offered clothing from Haji’s hand, he doesn’t miss the uncontained lopsided half-grin on their face and the mischievous glint in one dark eye.

On the corridor, the cape rustles familiarly as he throws it on his back, hands repeating old motions from muscle-memory. The deceivingly light yet heavy weight descends on his shoulders, and it’s startling to notice it’s something he’s missed without realizing.

 “Levi.” He stops, turning half-way to see Hanji’s toothy grin. Their eyes are moist, and his heart clenches, but he pretends not to see. “Give ‘em hell.”

He stares. Hanji don’t tell him to come back or to survive – doesn’t ask him for promise he’s unlikely to keep, no matter how fiercely resolution to survive sings in his blood. This is their way of saying goodbye to a friend who’s unlikely to return.

There’s nothing he can to say to that – he won’t give them empty promises. And he has nothing else to give.

The patches of lost ones, of those who deserved so much more, burn inside the pocket, flames etching into his skin.

Except…

Levi turns to face Hanji fully, looks them in the eye and salutes. It’s the first – and probably last – time he’s saluted to them since they were appointed. Hanji’s only eye widens in surprise, and that’s all Levi sees before he turns and walks away. It’s no secret that for him, Erwin was the only one to follow. Apart from his brief time under Flagon – a time when he still wanted to kill Erwin – he’s never worked under anyone else. He might’ve saluted to others, but the gesture never held any meaning.

With Hanji, they might not have mended the broken bond, but doesn’t mean they don’t care for each other – it doesn’t mean he doesn’t respect them. It doesn’t mean they’re a lousy Commander. Hanji knows all this, understands it without a word, but it was about the time he showed them.

Levi doesn’t need to look back to see Hanji’s ear-splitting grin.

 

 

Weeks later, Levi’s standing atop a broken pillar in a city across the sea. Ruins of the newly destroyed buildings are all around, lifeless corpses scattered across the capital, soldiers and innocents alike. The air smells of dust, burned wood, blood and death. It’s sickening, and it’s familiar.

It’s dawn of a new war.

Levi looks at Jaw Titan attacking Eren, trying to eat the kid.

Wind of change is blowing, and it’s not kind nor it is warm. It’s filled with desperation and hate, nauseating need to survive, to win. With that wind, Levi tightens his hold of his blades, spreads his blackened wings and takes a flight for one last time.


End file.
